by A. L. Brooks
After showering, she dressed in an old pair of cotton shorts and a Les Misérables T-shirt, then walked to her living room and pulled a folder down from the shelf above her small desk. The checklist she needed was in the second compartment. With that plus a pen in hand, she walked to the apartment’s main room. This was Broderick’s room to hang out in when he was home, and it contained nothing that hinted Olivia lived here too.
She had an hour to get started before Broderick was due home. He’d come in fifth in his race in Virginia, and he and the team had headed back to their base in New Jersey for a few days to make plans for the next race. He was driving into New York now, and he hoped to be home in time to help her ‘re-couple’ the apartment.
Olivia huffed out a breath and looked around. This room was by far the easiest to start with and involved the least amount of furniture moving, so she may as well do this one on her own while she waited for Broderick. The boxes were all in the storage cupboard down the hall, and they lay at her feet ten minutes later.
“Music,” she muttered. “I need music.” Something to distract her mind, which insisted on replaying all the events of that morning and the last couple weeks.
She stepped over to the sound system, connected her phone to it, and chose one of her own playlists. Before long, Alicia Keys’ voice filled the room, and Olivia sang along as she worked. The shelves to the right of the large TV were cleared of half of Broderick’s racing trophies and model cars, and their place was taken with wedding photos. The holiday photos of the various trips she and Broderick had taken over the years were shuffled around a little. She smiled at the one of them underwater on one of their Honduras diving trips. That had been their best trip, by far.
A couple of souvenirs from back home slotted in between the remaining model cars; a snow globe of London’s Big Ben and a small replica of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. The shelf under the TV was restocked with the handful of DVDs she and Broderick were supposedly watching together, including the one of their wedding.
She replaced the plain, brown cushions on the sectional couch with a few more colorful ones, then walked to the kitchen to retrieve the large bunch of flowers she’d also bought the night before. They took center stage in the middle of the dining table that had been cleared of all Broderick’s old newspapers, receipts, paperwork, and empty envelopes. She stuffed all that into a large grocery sack and placed it outside his bedroom door for him to deal with when he arrived home.
Twenty minutes later, she was happy with the result; the room now looked like it was shared by a straight, married couple and had a mix of his “masculine” items and her “feminine” ones.
She stood with her hands on her hips. “What a charade.”
The front door opened behind her, and she turned to wave at Broderick as he walked in.
“Hey!” He laid his two suitcases on the floor and walked over to give her a brief hug. “You got started. Thank you!”
“This room is always easy to do on my own, so I thought I would save us some time.” She glanced at the large clock on the wall opposite the TV. “You made good time.”
He kicked off his shoes and rolled up his shirt sleeves. “Yeah, traffic was pretty light.” He walked toward the kitchen. “I’m grabbing a beer. Do you want something?”
“I’d love a glass of wine, thank you.”
He returned a couple minutes later with their drinks.
They clinked glass to bottle, sipped, then smiled at each other.
“Here we go again.” Broderick’s mouth quirked up at one corner.
“Indeed.” Olivia poked him in the bicep. “No thanks to you.”
He chuckled and turned toward Olivia’s end of the apartment. “Shall we do your bedroom first?”
This room would be depersonalized as a guest room. Later, they’d switch Broderick’s bedroom to a shared master, with enough of Olivia’s clothes in the walk-in closet and toiletries in the en suite to make it look authentic.
As they worked, they chatted about Broderick’s race, then Olivia’s work.
“You haven’t talked much about it but you don’t sound happy,” Broderick observed as they moved around Olivia’s room, rearranged furniture, and boxed up her possessions.
Olivia sighed as she picked up a pile of books, a series of lesbian romance titles that would definitely confuse her mother-in-law if she ever saw evidence of them in the apartment. “I’m not. I’d barely got settled into the new job, and then this happened.”
“Is it the work itself? Or this competition for places?”
She placed the books in a box. “More the latter. Specifically, the personnel involved.”
“Oh?” Broderick opened the closet and held out his hands for the box of books.
Olivia’s anger from the morning’s incident bubbled up again. “I honestly don’t know what to make of them.” She handed him the box. “Chrissy seems nice on the outside, but she pulled a stunt this morning that really angered me. Maxwell, one of the TC people, is just a complete mystery to me. And Jenny, the other TC person, is the most outwardly unprofessional person I’ve met. Yet, she seems incredibly capable for the most part. Even if she is intent on winding me up every five minutes with some of her behavior.”
Broderick put the box on the top shelf before turning to look back at her. “Is she actually doing that, or are you just being…you?”
“What do you mean?”
He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “You know what I mean. I love you, so keep that in mind when I say you can be a little…icy toward new people. Actually, a lot icy, let’s face it.”
“Icy?” She raised one eyebrow.
Broderick chuckled. “Do not fight me on this. You did it with me all those years ago until I got you drunk. You did it with my mother, of all people. You’ve done it with everyone I’ve ever introduced you to. And, you know, you’ve been colder since Sally did what she did. I understand why that would make you pull back further. But all I’m saying is this Jenny might not be doing anything deliberately to upset you. It might be you’re not giving her a chance because you’ve instantly thrown up your big ice wall.”
“I’m just trying to do my job. To keep my job.” Her voice was tight. She was angry, but only because she knew he was right. Damn him.
“I get that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But you’ve got to be able to work as part of a team, haven’t you? I mean, Derek’s looking at that too, I’d guess. So don’t go shooting yourself in the foot by shutting them all out.”
“I’m not.” When he smirked, she sighed. “Okay, perhaps a little. But there is more to it than that.” Should she confide in him? Maybe it would help to talk it through with an outsider, someone she trusted who knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t say this lightly. “I’m not sure what her game is, but I think Chrissy is trying to set me up for something.”
Broderick frowned. “Set you up?”
“Today she claimed she had no recollection of a conversation we had yesterday.”
“Okay.” He drew the word out. “But, you know, that happens to a lot of us when we’re busy.”
Olivia chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I know, but there was something different about this. I can’t explain it, but I’m convinced she was lying.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know.” Olivia crossed the room and leaned against her desk. Her hands clutched tightly at its edges; tension filled her body. “It caused difficulties between me and Jenny. Actually, it made matters worse in that respect.” Was that it? Was Chrissy trying to drive a bigger wedge between them? But if so, why?
“It sounds a little far-fetched,” Broderick said softly.
Olivia looked at him, her mind whirling. “I know. But I’m sure of it.”
“Not everyone is a Sally.” Broderick kept his voice low, but the words hit home. �
��You know that, right?”
She exhaled loudly. “I know. But…” She swallowed hard. “I can’t go through something like that again. I just wanted a chance to start again. Somewhere new, where no one knows me—or her. I thought I’d get that here, but it hasn’t worked out how I wanted so far.”
“I get that. But you have to let go of that crap from before. You have to give people a chance to prove they’re not like her rather than immediately suspect they might be.”
She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I know.” Her voice was small. “But honestly, I don’t think I’m wrong about Chrissy.” She met his steady gaze. “I think she’s plotting something.”
“Well, I obviously hope you’re wrong. But even if you’re right, what can you do about it right now? Without any proof?”
That was true. She could hardly confront Chrissy with it, could she? Chrissy would just deny everything, and Olivia would look even more of a fool. And that was one thing she couldn’t stand. She sighed and pushed away from the desk. “You’re right. Let’s just forget it.”
“You okay?”
“Of course.” Her stomach twisted at the white lie. “Come on, the quicker we do this, the quicker we get to Whole Foods and work out what the hell we’re feeding them all tomorrow.”
Broderick laughed.
“Thank you, Olivia. That was wonderful. And so nice to see what you’ve done with the apartment.” Katherine pulled Olivia into a tight hug.
Olivia returned the hug with as much energy as she could muster. The afternoon had exhausted her. She could never relax when they were here; there was too much that could be found out, or let slip.
Katherine had indeed wanted a full tour of the apartment to see how it looked since her last visit six months prior, and Olivia had breathed a surreptitious sigh of relief that they had taken the time to switch the place around.
The meal had been fine, a selection of fancy salads and cold cuts. They’d eaten out on the balcony, then took coffee at the dining table when the late-July heat became too much. The whole time Olivia had, as usual, been on full alert for everything she said and did, and as they all left, the tension leaked out of her tired body.
“It was lovely to have you here.” Olivia smiled sweetly.
Finally, the three of them exited the apartment, and Broderick shut the door behind them.
Olivia slouched against the wall, waiting for the rumble of the descending elevator before she said, “Oh God, I’m exhausted!”
Broderick chuckled, then wrapped her in a tender embrace. “Thank you,” he murmured against her hair. “You were amazing, as always.”
“You’re welcome.” She looked up at him. “But please, let’s not do this again if we can help it.”
He had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Come on.” She pushed away from him. “Let’s get everything cleaned up, and then I can put my room back together.”
They’d just put away the last of the wedding photos when the phone rang.
Broderick grinned. “That’ll be your boyfriend. He’s the only one who ever calls the landline.”
“Oh, ha ha.” Olivia walked over to the phone and answered.
“Oh, good evening, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“Hello, Mr. Cousins.”
Across the room Broderick smirked and mouthed the words “I told you.”
“I’m so sorry to trouble you, but I’ve had a bad day and—”
“It’s no trouble,” Olivia gently interrupted. Yes, she was extremely tired, but there was no way she would say no. “Is he ready now?”
“He is. If you’re sure?”
“I am. I’ll be right down.”
She hung up and walked to her room. Her T-shirt would be fine, but over her dead body would she be seen out in public in the ratty shorts. Within two minutes, she’d changed into a more respectable pair.
“Want something to drink when you get back?” Broderick asked from his new position slouched on the sectional.
“God, yes. White wine. A very large one.”
Broderick bowed his head. “It shall be so, milady.”
She took the stairs down to the eighth floor, her steps light. Mr. Cousins’s call couldn’t have come at a better time—there was no better way to decompress after the day. She pressed his doorbell a couple of times.
“One moment!” he called through the door.
Three locks turned and the door opened. Mr. Cousins stood braced between the arms of his walker, a smile on his wrinkled face and his eyes bright yet watery. His white hair was thin but perfectly combed over his head. Despite the heat of the day, he wore a sweater vest over his shirt and full-length pants.
“Hello, Mr. Cousins.”
“Good evening, Mrs. Sinclair. Thank you so much for popping down.”
Olivia waved off his gratitude. “No problem.”
Barnaby walked up from behind Mr. Cousins and stood next to his master.
“Hey, Barnaby. Ready for a walk?” Olivia bent at the knees and looked into the dog’s eyes.
Barnaby stared back at her, his disinterest in doing anything right now plainly visible on his face. His eyes bored into hers as if to say, “Do we have to?”
She carefully reached past Mr. Cousins’s walker to grab Barnaby’s leash. “Come on, old man. You can do it.”
Mr. Cousins laughed, the sound raspy. “For a moment there I thought you were talking to me.”
Olivia chuckled as she straightened. “There’s only one old man here, Mr. Cousins, and it’s not you.”
“Sweet talker.” The old man’s eyes twinkled.
“We’ll be back soon.” Olivia tugged on the leash. “I doubt this one will need to go far.”
“That’s very true.” Mr. Cousins looked down at his beloved dog. “See you in a little while, boy.”
Olivia tugged again, and this time Barnaby moved, shambling past her. “Come on, once around the block. You can do it.” Olivia gave Barnaby a big smile.
Barnaby looked less than convinced but slowly followed her toward the elevator.
Chapter 12
“So, what’s on your agenda today?” Carl asked over the top of his breakfast coffee.
“I’m kind of excited, actually. Today we’re getting a look at the venue for the Christmas charity gala. Derek wants us to be familiar with the layout, given we’re going to be the ones running around all over the place that night. So he’s arranged this first look today, then another one in November.” Jenny crammed the last bite of her toast into her mouth. She only had a couple minutes before she needed to leave.
“And where is it?”
Jenny swallowed. “The Hudson Room at the Excelsior.”
Carl’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow! Classy.”
“I know! I’m definitely going to feel out of place there.”
He frowned. “Why? Sure, you won’t be all dressed up like the paying guests, but you’re entitled to be there.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…” She wasn’t sure how to explain it. Olivia Sinclair was someone she barely knew, after all, but it was clear Olivia thought Jenny was way too casual with the way she looked.
“What?” Carl prompted.
“I feel like I might need a new look. Something…smarter.”
“For the Excelsior or in general?”
“In general.” She sighed. “They’re all so dressed up at C&V. Maxwell and I don’t fit in.”
“Have they told you to smarten up?”
“No, actually, no one’s mentioned it. At least, not out loud.”
“Huh?”
Jenny slid off her stool. She regretted bringing the subject up when she didn’t have time to get into it. Especially when she was sure Carl would have a lot to say about it. “I need to go. Don’t want to be late.”
“Wait.” C
arl grabbed her forearm. “What’s going on?” He had that look about him, the one that said he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
She blew out a breath and folded her arms. That look always got to her, and she knew she had to tell him, the meeting be damned. “That Olivia woman. She always looks down at me. Like I’m not good enough.”
Carl shook his head as his grip on her arm tightened. “Unless the company has a specific dress code you aren’t compliant with, she can go fuck herself with her snooty opinions, okay?”
Jenny burst out laughing. “I’ll be sure to tell her that.”
Carl nodded sagely. “You do that.”
Olivia, of course, looked immaculate when Jenny met up with her, Chrissy, and Maxwell outside the Excelsior at ten that morning.
Jenny ground her teeth as she took in the gorgeous, olive-green jacket with the off-white shirt. She nearly choked as her gaze traveled downwards and observed, for the first time, Olivia Sinclair’s legs. She hadn’t seen Olivia in a skirt before, and oh my God, she should wear one every day with legs like those. Maybe not if this is what will happen to my heart rate.
Jenny wrenched her gaze away from the sight of those shapely calves leading to slender ankles and small feet that sported three-inch pumps in brown leather. Jenny had always, always had a thing for heels.
Okay, stop. No ogling the ice woman. The married ice woman.
She lifted her gaze and met Olivia’s questioning eyes. Jenny looked away again. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush! Her face—goddammit—didn’t listen; her skin blazed with heat.
“Good morning,” Derek said from behind her.
Jenny spun so fast she nearly toppled over. She’d have taken it, anything to avoid having to explain to Olivia why she had stared at the woman’s legs and blushed about it.
“Hi, Derek!” Chrissy moved to stand closer to him.
